


Dreams and Nightmares: Prequel to the Fateful Reunion

by galaxyartist4



Series: Just a Future [3]
Category: Treasure Planet (2002)
Genre: Alcohol, Dreams and Nightmares, Gen, Hallucinations, Needles, Psychological Trauma, Swearing, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-11 22:50:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7073692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxyartist4/pseuds/galaxyartist4
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A slice of time from Jim's third year at the Interstellar Academy. Plz read and review!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I love dreams, and I think they're fascinating. They can also be super scary. I also love the idea that dreams are kind of like an alternate reality.

_Ursid: A warm-blooded bear-like humanoid, often extremely large in size, can be very aggressive when angered._ Jim stared at the definition in front of him, not hearing a word his teacher was saying.   
                _Aggressive? You don't say…_ he thought. _More like… feral, or maybe violent…_ he smiled in an absent way. The Ursid on his mind meant the world to him.   
                “Hawkins!” Jim jumped and looked around. The teacher stood in front of him, an annoyed expression on her face.  
                “Hawkins, class is dismissed. You may leave.” Noticing that his classmates had already vacated the room, Jim gathered his things quickly and practically ran into the hallway. 

  
                “So Morphy, what’ll it be today?” He asked when he entered his room. Morph flew off his desk and chirped, then turned into an eye shield.  
                “Morphy, we can't go surfing right now, you know that.” Jim cupped the little creature in his hands. Morph burbled sadly, and turned back into himself. “It's lunch break, you wanna go eat something, maybe nap in the courtyard?” Morph peeped with excitement at the word ‘eat’, and settled as a necklace around Jim’s neck.   
                “Now, remember to behave.” Jim meandered in the direction of the dining room. He walked through the giant bronze doors and toward the food counter. The smell of the stew they were serving at the counter made Jim reel with surprise. It was too familiar. He gulped and took a plate of food without the stew.   
                Out in the courtyard, he sat down in the shade of a huge, twisting tree. Morph left his neck and fell upon the food; Jim just watched, having lost his appetite. He lay down, contemplating the bright blue sky, so unlike Montressor’s foggy atmosphere that rarely cleared. A tiny bird flew by, landing on one of the tree’s outermost branches. It opened its beak and let out a grating cry that made Jim start, then it flew away. Jim mumbled a curse, settled again, and closed his eyes.  
  
_He was back in the ship’s kitchen with Silver. His eyes adjusted to the dim light, and he noticed the stew bubbling on the fire._  
    _“Keep yer eye on the fire, lad.” He heard a voice say, and he turned to see Silver chopping vegetables on the counter. He opened his mouth to say that the stew was going to boil over, but no sound came out. Gaping soundlessly, he watched as the stew began to bubble over the edges of the pot. It seeped onto the floor and began to pool around Jim’s ankles. He tried to shout again but he couldn't produce any sound. Silver turned around, the stew already up to his waist._  
_“Jimbo, I told ya to watch th’ fire! Now look what ye’ve done!” The last thing he saw was Silver’s accusing glare disappearing beneath the bonzabeast stew._  
  
                Jim sat up, gulping air. Morph squeaked anxiously and flew around his head in circles.   
                “It's okay, Morphy. Just…” He looked at his watch and jumped to his feet.  
                “Shit, I'm gonna be late!” He scooped up his bag and bolted into the building, completely forgetting his plate.   
He skidded into class just as the bell sounded. Finding a seat, he dropped into it and rubbed his eyes. He could still see the image of stew filling the kitchen. It seemed to be burned into his eyelids.

 

* * *

 

                The sky was darkening when Jim returned to his dorm. He had a room to himself, since his roommate had transferred last semester. He sat down at his desk and tickled the brim of his top hat. Morph giggled and turned back into himself. Jim tossed the little shapeshifter a cookie and pulled his notes out of his bag.  
                “I hate homework…” He complained as Morph munched happily. The paper he had to write was on alien comparison, and he had absolutely no desire to start it. Grumbling with annoyance, he pulled a fresh piece of paper toward him and set his writing device on top of it. The device resembled a large metal bug.  
                “James P. Hawkins, November 20th,” he began. The metal object skittered to the top of the page and began stamping letters.

  
                Two hours later Jim slipped his finished paper into the homework slot in the wall and sighed heavily. His head was aching severely.  
                “Bed, Morph.” He yawned. Morph promptly turned into a mattress and landed on the desk. Jim snorted and fell into his own bed. After a minute he was snoring gently.   
  
                _His head was swirling. Time seemed to be speeding by at a break-neck pace. He opened his mouth to scream but once again, no sound came out. Suddenly he was on a ship. It was unfamiliar to him, and he didn't even recognize the design. He took a hesitant step forward, afraid of moving, then ran up the deck._  
                Where are you? _He tried to yell._ Why did you have to leave? _The stars winked out. In the pitch black, Jim heard something that made his breath catch. It was very faint, but it grew louder and louder until it screamed in the darkness. He tried to cover his ears but the sound drilled into his head._  
                “I didn’t want ye, Jimbo.”  
                _He gasped and rolled out of his hammock. Pulling on his boots, he looked around. No one else was there; the other hammocks were empty. He walked up the stairs onto the deck and suddenly he was yanking open a door. Panic filled his heart and lungs, drowning him. He ran down the steps, bare feet pounding into the dust. He tripped, but jumped up again. He reached out, but then he realized the retreating form wasn't thin and lean, it was very broad and muscular, oddly lopsided…_  
  
                Jim sat up in bed with a choked sob. He looked up and almost yelled in surprise and fear. A golden globe was casting light on him. Reaching out, he cupped the globe in his hand and it turned back into Morph.  
                “How did you know?…” he whispered. Morph burbled sadly and slowly he changed. Jim stared at him, barely able to breath.   
                “I didn't…” A tiny Silver stared back at him solemnly. He touched Jim's thumb and smiled gently, then turned back into Morph. The little shapeshifter yawned and settled back onto Jim's pillow.   
Jim yawned too and lay back. Sleep closed around him like a hug from huge mismatched arms. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter

  
                The next afternoon, Jim was drowsing in his flight statistics class. He had just begun to count seconds when he was brought abruptly back to consciousness.  
                “Hawkins!” He looked up and saw a long and complicated math problem on the touch board.   
                “Sir?” He asked, a little confused. The teacher scowled and motioned at the problem. Jim sighed and stood, covering a yawn with his hand. He put out his hand and pressed his fingertips against the board for a minute, then began to tap. His fingers flew as his mind buzzed.   
                _“Focus Jimbo,”_ Jim’s breath hitched. _“Steady…”_ his vision turned white.   
Suddenly, the board flashed green and Jim stepped away.   
                “Fantastic, Mr. Hawkins!” The teacher looked impressed as he pointed Jim back to his seat. Jim walked blindly back to his desk, rubbing his ears. They were roaring.   
                The class ended and Jim left, still stunned. He felt his pocket wiggle and Morph flew out, chirping happily.   
                “What is going on, Morphy?” Morph burbled, flitting around Jim’s head. Jim looked up and saw a black coat whip out of sight around the corner. His heart stopped.   
He dropped his bag and ran to the corner, whipping around it so quickly he almost crashed into the humanoid standing there.   
                “Did you see someone go by here just now?” Jim panted. The humanoid shook his head and walked away. Jim stood, staring into the empty hallway. The bell rang and he jumped.  
                _Shit, I'm gonna be late again._ He scooped up his bag and sprinted in the direction of his class.

 

* * *

 

  
                “Y’know Morphy, I think I want to get a tattoo on my birthday,” Jim said absently as he walked back to his dorm. Morph squeaked in a sleepy manner and yawned.   
                “And no, you can't try and talk me out of it.” Smiling slightly at the lack of response, Jim dug around in the suitcase under his bed and pulled out a bottle.   
                “This stays between us, right?” he shook the bottle slightly and Morph nodded, giggling. Jim took a gulp and sighed heavily, reveling in the burn that coursed down his throat. The smell of the liquor reminded Jim of Silver, and how the big man always had a whiff of it about him. He huffed and dropped himself onto the bed, swigging.   
                “Mm fuck,” he breathed. Morph twittered at the use of the bad word, flying in circles. “Ah, Morphy, what am I gonna do? I keep seeing him everywhere, and he’s even in my dreams.”  
He felt his head getting heavier as he stuck the cork back into the bottle.   
                “This is ridiculous,” Jim yawned, “I don’t know what to do…” he slipped sideways and fell asleep.  
  
                _The trees closed around him. Darkness threatened to overwhelm his tired mind. Then suddenly, he was wide awake. Jim heard rustling from behind the trees. He stood on shaking legs, world spinning around him, and put a hand to his forehead._  
                _“Where am I?” he groaned. Bruises spotted his knuckles and knees. Cuts ran the length of his shins and over his elbows. They stung when he moved._  
_Jim leaned against a nearby tree until the world stopped spinning, then wandered forward. He crashed blindly through the bushes, not even knowing where he was going. Eventually, he pushed into a clearing._  
_“I can't remember anything,” Jim mumbled, rubbing his eyes._  
_“Jimbo…” Jim stiffened, feeling the hair raise on the back of his neck._  
_“Who’s there?” he called, voice scratching in his throat. There was no response. Jim shook his head and sank to the ground, hissing in pain._  
_“Jimbo…” He nearly cracked his head on the tree behind him craning his head to look around for the source of the sound._  
_“Is someone there?” he yelled, but there was still no response. He put his head in his hands and fought the urge to scream and cry._  
_“Why do I keep hearing you and seeing you everywhere? I can't deal with this…” his voice caught pathetically. He felt the hot sting of tears in his eyes and gritted his teeth._  
_“JIMBO? WHERE DID YE GO?” Jim sprang to his feet, ignoring his pain._  
_“Where are YOU?” Jim called angrily, “Who are you anyway?”_  
_He heard crashing in the brush. Irrational fear gripped him, and he found he could barely breathe. The crashing grew closer. Jim felt a strange pressure on his chest. Suddenly the bushes across the clearing pushed apart and a hulking Ursid stomped into the clearing. The Ursid stopped and stared at Jim with mismatched eyes, apparently flabbergasted._  
_“Jimbo?” His voice faltered with uncertainty. Jim stared back, confused and suddenly very upset._  
_“Who- who are you?” He saw shock hit the Ursid’s wide features and saw the mismatched eyes widen even farther. Suddenly there was a piercing pain in Jim’s chest and-_  
  
                He floundered out of bed in a state of panic. Wheezing, he stumbled over to the window and flung it open. The cold air hit his face and he gasped. Planets and stars winked in the dark sky overhead. Jim stared up into the night, still panting. Even in the dream, he almost believed- almost- that Silver had really seen him.


	3. Chapter 3

                Jim woke up with his head pounding.   
                “Ugh…” he moaned. Morph flew around his head, squeaking. “It’s fine, Morphy, I'm just glad it's Saturday.” He sat up and got out of bed. “Happy birthday to me…” he hummed as he pulled on his pants.   
                “Guess where we’re going today?” Jim said to Morph. Morph twittered curiously. “To the tattoo place, of course!” Jim chugged half a bottle of water and grabbed his knapsack. He yanked open a drawer in his desk and pulled out all the miscellaneous papers, then stuck his fingers into the five golden disks embedded into the wood. He swirled his fingers in a complex pattern, then pressed the buttons down. There was a pop and a clicking sound, and the false bottom slid open. Jim sighed, recalling how he had designed this opening mechanism after the map to Treasure Planet. Sifting around in the apparent junk, he found several medium sized gold and silver coins and stuffed them into his pockets.  
                “C’mon Morphy, let’s go.” Jim locked his door and headed out of the building. At a brisk walk, it took him two minutes to reach the building where small aircrafts were kept. He found his own board and dusted it off.   
                Students were allowed to go into the city during weekends, and those lucky enough to have their own boat or solar surfer didn’t have to pay to use one of the school’s crafts. Smirking, Jim slung his board under his arm and walked out onto the launch field. No one else seemed to be up yet; the field was empty.   
                Jim hopped onto his board, waited for Morph to settle into one of his pockets, and stomped onto the ignition. The solar surfer flared into life and shot of the ground. Jim whooped for old times’ sake, and steered in the direction of the glittering city.  
  
                About an hour later, Jim landed in the outskirts of the city. Morph twittered with excitement. The roads were thin and winding, and the buildings rising on either side of the street were older and rustic looking. Jim paused and looked toward the center of the city where newer, shiny buildings stood. The morning light glittered off the metal, sending sparkles everywhere. Whistling thoughtfully, Jim hefted his board under his arm and started walking. He bought a pastry and shared it with Morph as he wandered along. He knew vaguely where he was going, since his friend, Khano, the herb seller back on Montressor, had mentioned the place.   
  
                _“It’s a strange, small house,”_ Khano had said, _“Its architecture is almost… barbaric, I guess.”_ He had chuckled. _“It’s in the outskirts of the city near the Interstellar Academy, close to the tallest building in the lower city, and by building I mean spire. The most noticeable feature is the smell of ink, it practically surrounds the place.”_  
  
                Jim looked around again and saw a tall thin spire rising above the other buildings. He sniffed the air and huffed.   
                “I don’t smell anything,” Jim grumbled. Morph burbled anxiously. Jim stopped at a food cart.  
                “Hey, excuse me, I'm looking for a place near here,” Jim asked the vendor, “Apparently it smells like ink?” The vendor blinked its three eyes and pointed to the left. Jim thanked it and followed the street.                                                                                                                                                       Suddenly he stopped and sniffed again, and there, on the breeze, was the smell of ink. The scent brought him to a small building. The doorway was carved with intricate yet rough looking designs, contrasted by the dirty cloth hung in the place of a door. Jim noted the pile of seemingly useless junk around the entrance and the ink spots on the cloth before knocking on the door frame.   
                “Hello?” he called softly. There was no answer. Jim was forcefully reminded of his dream from the night before. He knocked again, then skipped back as he heard a loud, guttural growl from inside the building. Rubbing his face, he wondered if Khano had just played a cruel joke on him.   
                “Who-” growled a voice, “Is-” there were stomping footsteps, “THERE?”   
                A huge, claw tipped hand reached out of the doorway and pushed aside the cloth. Jim found himself face to face with the largest, angriest-looking Ursid he had ever laid eyes on. 

  
     

* * *

 

  
                Jim’s legs gave out from underneath him and he sat down rather unceremoniously, dropping his board. The huge alien looked at him, unimpressed.   
                “And who’re you?” he growled. Jim gawped at him, reality kicking in. This Ursid was even larger than Silver, muscles rippling under his black, suede-like skin. His nose was wider and flatter than Silver’s, with a crooked bridge. Dark blue, organic eyes sparkled from underneath shaggy blue-black brows. Silver loops hung in his ears, shining in the morning light. Gold glittered in his mouth as sighed.  
                “Little whelp,” the Ursid growled, brows knitting together fiercely, “Why’re ye botherin’ me so early in th’ mornin’?”   
                Jim opened his mouth, shut it, and opened it again.  
                “Uh… a friend told me that… I could get a tattoo here?” he stuttered. The Ursid looked at him for a moment, then scratched his chin with a clawed finger.   
                “And what be the name o’ yer friend?” he grunted. Jim gulped.  
                “Khano, a Felinoid.” The Ursid looked surprised for a second, then turned around and stomped back into the building.  
                “C’mon in, an’ put yer board in here,” Jim heard him grumble. Jim followed into him into the darkness.  
                Past the cloth, the room was dimly lit and grungy looking, cluttered full of random objects. Jim walked after the broad back in front of him, picking his way between piles of junk, and laid his board carefully against the wall. The Ursid led him past a room full of painting supplies and canvases and into a tiny room in the back. This room, in comparison with the front room, was very different. It was clean and orderly. A lamp hung above a cushioned table, casting a clear light into the room.  
                “Alrigh’, boy, sit yerself down.” The Ursid pulled up a chair and motioned to the table. Jim sat down nervously, fidgeting.   
                “Calm down, whelp, ye’ll make me nervous,” the Ursid nearly chuckled, “Tell me what ye want, and I'll tell ye how much I want for it.”   
                Jim paused.   
                “I'm thinking… a full rigged ship, about this big. Here,” he pointed to his hip. “The old-fashioned kind, without rockets or anything.” The Ursid considered him for a moment, stood up and left, then returned a minute later.   
                “Like this?” the Ursid handed Jim a small painting. Jim looked at it and nodded.  
                “This is awesome,” Jim mumbled in awe. The Ursid hummed in thought, then named his price. Jim hissed slightly, mentally counting his money.  
                “Okay.”  
                He watched as the Ursid rummaged in a drawer and carefully pulled out a small package. Huge, scarred, claw-tipped hands cautiously unwrapped the needle and set it into the tattoo gun. He laid it carefully onto the desk and turned to Jim, handing him a cloth.   
                “Lay yerself down sonny, and show me where ye want the ink. Cover yerself with this if ye need to.” Jim lay down and covered himself with the cloth, then shimmied his pants down a little. “Here,” he pointed to the bare skin of his hip. The Ursid took up a pen and began to draw. The pen was cool on Jim’s skin. He closed his eyes and sighed a little bit. Minutes ticked by.  
                “What’s your name?” Jim asked. The Ursid huffed, then said something in a guttural language.  
                “Just call me Ted.” Jim opened one eye and surveyed the bear-like man.   
                “I’m Jim,” he said.  
                “How about Jimbo?” Ted asked. Jim flushed and felt his face twist a little.  
                “Just… Jim.”   
                “Alright, strikin’ nerves afore I even start with the gun.” The Ursid chuckled. Jim grinned and shook his head. After a moment, Ted stopped drawing.  
                “Like that?” he asked. Jim propped himself up a little on his elbow and looked down. Even though it was only in pen, the design looked wonderful. He grinned and flopped back down.  
                “Perfect.”   
The Ursid swiveled and dipped the gun in a little open capsule of ink.  
                “This is gonna sting some, sonny.” His growl was low and soft. Jim nodded.  
                The sensation was not what he expected. At first, he barely felt it, then suddenly it felt like a hot knife on his skin. He breathed carefully, knowing full well that he had to sit through a lot more pain before he was done.   
                “So, sonny, wan’ ta tell me why ye looked like ye had seen a ghost when I peeped out me door this mornin’?”   
                Jim smiled wryly at his choice of words.  
                “I knew a different Ursid… Once.” He said slowly, staring up at the ceiling.   
                “Did ye now?” Asked the low growl. Jim nodded. “What was he like?”  
                Jim opened his mouth, and was engulfed in memories. Silver, offering a sharp and dangerous hand to shake the first time he saw Jim. Silver, yelling at him for ‘picking fights’. Silver, holding him tightly for the last time.  
                Jim closed his eyes.  
                “He was a pirate. A mutinous, terrible, infuriating pirate.” Ted stopped working for a moment. Jim opened an eye and saw that the Ursid was giving him a weird look.  
                “Strange,” Ted graveled, returning to his work, “How ye talk about this here ‘terrible pirate’ like he was an ol’ friend.”  
                “He was,” Jim mumbled. “The best I've ever had.”  
                “There aren't many of us ‘round here,” Ted sighed. “I migh’ be the only Ursid in th’ lower city. I don't even know many o’ me own kind.” He paused to dip the needle into the ink again. “I had me an Ursid buddy in me university days,” he continued, “That bugger had t’ go get himself killed in a bad accident…” Jim looked at him but saw only an impassive expression.   
                “That was a long time ago, sonny. Can't be too torn up about things forty years later.”  
                “Can I ask… What was he like?” Jim saw the expression shift a little.   
                “He was like yer friend a bit. Infuriating. Always causin’ trouble, always going where he shouldn't’ve been… Ah but we were young’ns at the time.” The bear-like man inclined his head at an old photograph on the wall.  
                “That's us there, not even twenty yet.” Jim looked, and did a double take. His heart practically stuck in his chest, then threatened to leap out. There was no mistaking it. One of the Ursids in the frame was a younger-looking Ted, but the other… It couldn't be.  
                Jim inhaled laboriously and Ted stopped.   
                “Need a breather?” Jim nodded and gestured a little haphazardly at the photo.   
                “What-” he coughed, “What was your friend’s name?” Ted glanced at the picture.  
                “His name was John, but he fancied callin’ himself Silver, his last name.” 


	4. Chapter 4

  
                Jim gulped like a fish, staring at Ted. The Ursid looked vaguely concerned.  
                “What's a matter, son? Pain getting’ to ye?” Jim shook his head and searched for the words.  
                “You said… That he was killed in an accident?” Ted nodded.  
                “Ay, he left on a skiff one day an’ the remains of it were found two weeks later, halfway across th’ galaxy in the outskirts of an ol’ dump. Th’ only person livin’ there said he hadn't seen the driver anywhere when th’ ship went down.”   
                Jim collapsed back down, feeling rather weak.  
                “He lied.”   
                “What's that?” Ted growled sharply, accidentally applying more pressure to the gun. Jim flinched.   
                “He's not dead.”   
                “Ye’ve gone delusional, kid.” The bear-like man huffed.   
                “I have not.” Jim grumbled. “He's still alive, I think.”  
                “Ye ‘think’?”  
                “Yes, because last time I saw him was five years ago.” Ted stopped again and looked at him suspiciously.  
                "It's not possible.”  
                Jim shook his head again and prodded his pocket.  
                “Morphy, wake up.” Morph bubbled sleepily and floated out, then squealed when he saw Ted. Ted looked confused as Morph flew in excited circles around his head.  
                “Morph, meet Ted. He says he knew Silver when they were young.” Morph lit on the Ursid’s outstretched palm, and Jim watched as he shifted into a tiny Silver. Ted’s mouth fell open.  
                “I don’ believe it,” he growled, then started hissing in the strange guttural language he had used before. “Thi’ son of a galaxy slug had th’ nerve not t’ tell me he wa’ still kickin’?!”   
                Jim didn't know what to say. He couldn't believe it either. The Ursid stared at the tiny figure in his palm, taking in the mechanical parts.   
                “So the bugger’s not dead,” He growled, “But now he's a ‘borg.” Jim nodded. “Tell me how ye met him, and I'll tell ye what he was like when I knew him.”  
                Jim thought for a second, then sighed.   
                “Where do I even begin?”

                            

* * *

 

  
                Three hours later, Ted stopped and turned off the gun.   
                “Yer done, boy. Don’ touch it. Wash it with some simple soap every day an’ smack some o’ this on it a few times a day. Try not to let anything rub on it.” The Ursid handed Jim a jar of salve and turned to clean the gun. Jim sat up gingerly and looked at his new ink.   
                The ship looked real, floating on waves that seemed like they would crash on his skin at any moment. The detail was stunning, with tiny rigging and ropes.  
                “How much do I owe you?” Jim asked. The bear-like man named a price quite a bit lower than before. Jim cocked an eyebrow.  
                “Ye seem like a good kid, plus yer in the Interstellar Academy. Students never have much money anyway.” The silver in his ears flashed innocently as he moved to put away the gun.  
_Are all Ursids just big softies?_ Jim thought as he dug in his pockets and pulled out almost all the coins he had brought with him, counting them onto the table. He put out the proper amount for the original price.  
                “Sonny, I won't take a coin more than my last offer,” Ted growled without turning around. Jim grinned and pocketed one of the coins.   
                “I always tip a master artist.” Ted swiveled around and scowled at him.  
                “Impertinent whelp.”   
                “You've got me pinned.” Jim, still grinning, took a last look at the old photo on the wall, then headed back out of the building. He grabbed his solar surfer and was just about to pull aside the cloth when Ted put a huge hand on his shoulder. Jim turned around and looked up at him.  
The dark blue eyes glittered as Ted handed Jim an old envelope.  
                “Happy birthday, sonny,” He grunted, and with a gruff pat on the shoulder, he retreated back into the building. Jim was about to open the envelope when a growl issued from the darkness.   
                “Open that later!”   
                Jim called his thanks into the back and heard a grunt in return. Grinning, he tucked his board under his arm and whistled to Morph. The little shapeshifter peeped from inside his pocket.  
                “What a strange and wonderful day,” Jim said to Morph, and headed in the direction of the launch area.  
  
                That evening, Jim was sitting in his bed, wearing his softest pants. He was sipping from his secret bottle, re-reading the contents of the envelope Ted had given him.   
  
                _Sonny, thanks for telling me about ol’ Silver. I'm going to try to get in contact with him if I can. This is for you, and it's just a print so don't get too excited._

 _-Ted_  
  
                Jim pulled a worn piece of paper out of the envelope again and fingered the edge. It was a small painting of an Ursid, grinning widely, displaying a gap in his front teeth. A maniacal glint shone in his green eyes, and gold hoops shone in his ears, three in his right and one in his left.   
  
                _“You're gonna rattle the stars, you are.”_  
  
                Jim sighed and slipped the papers back into the envelope. He stood and slipped it into the false bottom of his drawer, clicking it shut. His hip twinged slightly as he sat down again.   
                “What am I even doing with myself right now?” Jim asked Morph as the little shapeshifter burbled and flew in tipsy circles around his head.  
                “It could be forever… I might never see him again.” He stashed his bottle under the bed and fell onto it with a dramatic moan.  
                “Today was a good day,” he mumbled, “Weirdly emotional, but good.” In minutes he was fast asleep.   
  
_In the dream, Jim was floating. Colors, sounds, and smells surrounded him in clouds. Galaxies zipped by. He was free, weightless. His body was made of star foam and light, insubstantial and strange. Rather suddenly, he was suspended above a room. It was small, but not uncomfortably so. Jim saw a figure sitting at a desk, writing haphazardly on a piece of crumpled-looking paper and muttering. A mechanical eye shed yellow light onto the scrawling handwriting. The figure smacked its huge hand onto the desk, then crumpled up the paper._  
                _“Ay, ye old hound, ye can't say that. Probably should jus’ give up on this stupid business.”_  
 _“Silver? Where do I put the carving knives?” A girl in an apron poked her head into the room._  
 _Silver stood, tossing the crumpled paper into a waste basket._  
 _“I'll be righ’ there, don’ touch those knives!” The girl hurried away with muttered assent. Silver paused for a moment, looking lost. He turned to the door, then turned back to his desk._  
 _“What am I goin’ ta do?” He slumped onto his bed, putting his head in his hands. After a moment, he looked up at the ceiling in apparent despair. His eyes focused slightly, then widened. His mouth opened in surprise, and Jim felt a shock run through his entire ephemeral body._  
 _“Jim, lad?”_  
  
                Jim opened his eyes, panting slightly, and got out of bed. His watch said it wasn’t even one in the morning.   
                “Ugh, not again…” Jim floundered around looking for water. Once his fingers touched a bottle, he grabbed it and chugged it all.   
                “I'm so goddamn tired,” he grumbled as he climbed under the covers again. “Give me good dreams or just let me sleep.”  
  
                _He was floating again. Clouds passed by him, fluffy and golden tinged. His feet touched something warm and smooth. A force pulled him toward a blue patch in the sky, and he walked forward. His fingertips connected with a strange curtain that felt like suede. The curtain was strong but supple. Jim's fingers pressed against it and the curtain gave way. He stepped forward. Then his palms met a surface that was hard as rock._  
               _I'm dreaming though, Jim thought, I can just go through this. He pushed and found that his body passed through. He moved on._  
_The world around him was bizarre, but Jim sighed and kept walking forward. Cold, open deserts gave way to warm, beautiful rainforests full of chirping and cawing, then the jungle gave way to rocky cliffs. Jim started to climb. The rocks were rough under his feet but he didn't feel any pain. Galaxies started to appear in the sky above him, full of twinkling stars and planets. He reached the top of the cliff and looked up. A star tickled his nose._  
_Jim stepped off the cliff. His feet moved in the sky underneath him and brought him upwards. He rose up and up, until the air seemed thin. Sitting comfortably on a galaxy, sucking on a pipe, was a large figure. Jim floated forward. The figure turned, mechanical eye winking gold. The eyes widened again._  
_“Jimbo?”_  
_“Where is this?” Jim asked, floating down and sitting next to the bear-like man. Silver looked out._  
_“I find m’self here sometimes.” Jim looked out too._  
_“I was dreaming,” Jim said. Silver looked at him._  
_“Maybe I'm dreamin’ too,” Silver chuckled, and Jim almost groaned as he felt the laugh ripple through his own body. “Or maybe I'm jus’ finally crazy.”_  
_Jim hesitantly reached out and laid his hand on Silver’s arm. A shock ran through them both. Silver turned and grabbed Jim’s shoulders, shaking him slightly._  
_“Am I dreamin’, Jimbo!?” Jim placed his hand on Silver’s cheek. The suede-like skin was warm under his palm._  
_“I know I'm real. Are you?” Silver covered Jim’s hand with his own. “I t’ink so,” Silver growled. “Jimbo, what’s th’ day?”_  
_“It's November 22nd.” Silver dropped Jim’s hand and stared at him._  
_“Happy birthday, lad.” Jim grinned._  
_“Thanks, you ol’ scalawag.”_  
_They looked at each other for a moment, then Jim remembered something._  
_“Silver, I met your friend Ted today.” Silver’s face broke into a wry grin._  
_“That ol’ fool,” he grunted._  
_“He thought you were dead.” Silver eyed him._  
_“How’d you meet ol’ Teddy, anyhow?”_  
_“Never mind that,” Jim coughed, blushing, “Why didn't you tell him you survived?” Silver looked bored._  
_“Figured he had ‘nough on his mind, what with runnin’ the second biggest smugglin’ ring on his side of the galaxy an’ all.”_  
_Jim gaped at him._  
_“Smugglers?” He asked. Silver nodded._  
_“Aye but don’ ye tell anyone ‘bout that, ya hear?”_  
_Jim rolled his eyes, exasperated, and watched a tiny comet zoom by._  
_“I never told anyone how you got past me.” Silver smiled warmly, and smacked him on the back._  
_“Ay, that's true, lad.”_  
_Suddenly Jim noticed that he could see light._  
_“When will I see you again?” He asked, panic edging into his voice. He grasped at the lapels of Silver’s jacket as his body began to lift._  
_“Doubt it’ll be here again, Jimbo. Just keep waitin’, and keep a weather eye out on that horizon. I'll find ye.” Jim grabbed Silver’s hand and hung on. His voice began to fade in and out._  
_“Silver, I miss you,” he whispered, and as he let go and floated away, Silver’s voice echoed in his ears._  
  
_“I miss ye too.”_  
  
                Jim sat up and looked around. His room was the same as the previous night, and the morning light was streaming in through the window. He smiled and flopped back in bed, holding his hands to his chest. His fingers could almost still feel the warm, soft skin on his.  
  
                Half a galaxy away, Silver opened his eyes and stared at his ceiling, then he held up his hands and surveyed them, one metal, one organic. Rubbing his face, he sighed deeply.  
                “Jimbo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Silver's three piercings in his right ear and one in his left is the original idea of colonel_bastard who is a truly extraordinary fanfic writer~


End file.
